


Without Question

by NachoDiablo



Series: And Then Wolverine Showed Up [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fluff and Smut, Howling Commando Logan, Jealous Undertones, Like Confessions, Love Confessions, M/M, Uncertainty, background Logan/Bucky, devoted Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Sam has no doubt as to how Steve feels about him. It’s Steve’s feelings towards Barnes that have him apprehensive.Set during the events of TWS.





	Without Question

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to [this Logan/Bucky fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630484), but they each stand on their own. All you need to know is that in this AU, Wolverine exists and was in the Howling Commandos. Everything else is canon compliant, including Steve’s love for Sam, thank you very much. ;)

Sam hadn’t expected Steve Rogers to actually show up at the VA.  He’d hoped, sure, but he is nothing if not a realist at this point in his life. 

They’d had a good conversation, exchanged some not-so-subtle flirty looks. But Steve was likely bogged down with tactical plans and training and whatever other bullshit superheroes got up to in between world saving missions. He couldn’t have much free time on his hands.

He’d managed to find enough free time to lap Sam five times earlier that week and talk shit, but still.

Yet here he is now, in the doorframe of Sam’s session room, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, eyes fixed on Sam like he’s saying something important.

“So, I was about to grab some coffee.” Steve’s tone is casual, but Sam doesn’t miss the way he squares his shoulders and glances down at the floor before he looks back up at Sam with earnest. “You up for joining me? Some caffeine might perk you up, get your ass in gear on your next run.”

Steve has a sly grin on his face, like he’s daring Sam to remark on the  _ ‘ass’ _ comment. Sam chuckles and shakes his head.

“Maybe superheroes can run on caffeine only, but us mortals need food. It’s dinner time, man.”

“Dinner works too,” Steve says, a little too quickly. “If you want.”

Sam fights to keep his eyebrows away from his hairline. Steve Rogers just asked him out on a date. And it is  _ definitely _ a date; the way Steve’s eyes flicker up and down Sam’s frame leave no room for doubt. 

“Or do you already have plans? With the girl at the front desk?”

The shit eating-grin that blooms on Steve’s face makes Sam roll his eyes even as he laughs. Carmen in reception is a happily married woman whose desk is adorned with pictures of her grandkids. She’s likely interested in how Sam and Steve know each other, but not for the reasons Sam had originally teased.

“Nah,” he says, “I’m free tonight. Let me grab my jacket and we can get out of here.”

“We can take my bike,” Steve adds. “If you’re cool with that?”

Sam takes in the expanse of Steve’s shoulders, and imagines pressing up against them with his arms wound around Steve’s trim waist. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m cool with that.”

 

\- - - - - - -

“Shit.” Sam checks his watch. “They’re closing in ten minutes.”

Steve looks around the restaurant as though he’s surprised to see that they’re the only ones left. Sam can’t really blame him. They’d been swapping stories and ribbing each other as they housed their burgers and salads. Sam hadn’t noticed the time, either, not when he was busy stopping Steve from snatching his croutons.

Before Sam can start his goodbye spiel, Steve clears his throat and rests his hand on the table. His thumb presses lightly against Sam’s pinkie.  

“There’s a bar next door,” he says. “Want to grab a drink before we call it a night?”

 

\- - - - - - -

“Shit,” Steve swears as he knocks over his glass. Luckily it was empty save for a handful of melting ice cubes, so the the damage is minimal.

Sam laughs as he passes over a stack of napkins. “You sure you can’t get drunk? Seems like maybe the whiskey’s got to you.”

“I’m sure.” Steve’s smile drops for a minute. “Very sure.” He chews on his lower lip, then blinks his eyes and shakes his head. He eyes Sam with another one of his smiles, but this one is small, hesitant. Something private, just for Sam.

“You want me to take you home?” It’s a loaded question, but there’s no pressure.

Sam nods.  He’s known the answer all night. “Yeah. I do.”

 

\- - - - - - -

_ “Shit!”  _ Sam tilts his head back so Steve can kiss further down his neck to his collarbone. His breath hitches as Steve’s teeth nip lightly against the sensitive skin.

He’s not completely sure what happened. They’d taken the bike to Sam’s house. Steve had insisted on walking Sam to the front door. They’d done the will-we won’t-we goodnight kiss dance back and forth, and then--

Sam isn’t sure how they got here, but he and Steve are inside the house wrapped in each other’s arms with keys and jackets strewn about. Steve’s back is pressed up against the door, but Sam’s the one who’s gone weak in the knees. Steve’s got him firmly in grip, one hand on his ass and the other at the base of his neck, and it’s a good thing he’s got that super strength, because Sam’s muscles have forgotten how to work.

Except for the ones that allow him to grind against Steve’s rock hard dick. Those are working just fine, thanks.

“Wait.” Steve pulls back sharply, thought he thankfully doesn’t loosen his grip on Sam’s ass. “I don’t… This isn’t what I want.”

Sam’s jaw drops, and he pushes one hand against Steve’s chest. Before he can move away, Steve pulls him closer.

“No,  _ no, _ I didn’t mean… I want, uh… I do want  _ this.” _ Steve jerks his hips a bit, and Sam clenches his teeth to keep from moaning. “I do,  _ fuck, _ I do, but I… I wanna see you again, too.”

Sam blinks in confusion. “What does one have to do with the other?”

Steve cringes. “I dunno, I just... I know how it is. Getting together for the night, saying you’ll catch up later, but then you never do, and… I  _ like _ you, Sam. A helluva lot, and I… I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

Steve is adorably pink cheeked as he stammers out his ardent declaration of  _ like. _ Sam takes pity on him. He runs a hand through Steve’s mess of hair as he pecks a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Don’t sweat it. I  _ like _ you too.” Sam flashes a lopsided grin. “Let’s see where it goes, yeah? But don’t think you’re getting rid of me any time soon.”

The soft smile on Steve’s face is unsettlingly cherubic for someone who’s managed to work his hand down Sam’s pants while he was talking, but Sam chooses to overlook it.

 

\- - - - - - -

_ “Shit!” _

Sam gasps as Steve moans into his ear. He pushes his hips back as Steve thrusts between his thighs. Steve’s hands are everywhere; Sam’s chest, his hips, his ass. The slick friction of Steve’s dick against him has Sam ready to fall apart beneath Steve’s touch. The pretty sounds Steve makes as they fuck only get him hotter.

“Baby,” Steve whispers, his breath hot against the nape of Sam’s neck. His strong fingers curl around Sam’s dick. “You feel so damn  _ good,  _ you’re so  _ fucking _ gorgeous.”

Sam’s right at the edge, but that last bit in the endless stream of praise that Steve’s been whispering sends him over. He comes, hard and fast all over Steve’s hand. He collapses against the sheets afterwards.  There’s no time to worry about the mess, not when Steve moans over him as he finishes, jerking himself off until he comes all over Sam’s ass. The warm stickiness slides between Sam’s cheeks, and his own dick gives a feeble twitch in response, even though he knows he’s spent.

Steve collapses next to him. He gathers Sam into his arms, stickiness be damned. “Baby,” he says softly as he presses a kiss to Sam’s forehead. “That was amazing.”

“I always am.” It’s not exactly a lie-- Sam knows what he’s working with-- but the bravado is a bit of a bluff. All the sweet talk has him thrown for a loop. Pet names aren’t uncommon in the throws of passion, he knows that. But the way Steve said  _ ‘baby,’ _ all soft and reverent… it felt like something special.

Steve chuckles. “I don’t doubt it.” He shifts Sam back to the bed. “Let me get something to clean up with, okay?”

“Mmmph,” Sam grunts into his pillow. He doesn’t want to move, but he does let Steve wipe him down with a damp washcloth. He lifts his head and frowns when he notices Steve shimmying back into his clothes.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, and he does look quite regretful as he peppers Sam’s forehead and cheeks with kisses. “I’ve gotta be at work in five hours, and all my gear’s at my apartment.”

Sam presses his face back into the pillow. “Grmmph,” he says.

Steve chuckles. “Next time I’ll stay for breakfast. I promise.”

Sam flashes a thumbs up in what he assumes is Steve’s general direction, but he doesn’t reply as he drifts off to sleep.

 

\- - - - - - -

It’s been three days and Steve still hasn’t called. 

Sam sighs as he stares into his fridge. So many packages of eggs and toast, so few super soldiers here to eat it. He grabs the orange juice and takes a swig.

It’s ridiculous to mope like this. Steve’s got shit to do. Important shit. World saving shit. Shit that likely keeps him away from his phone more often than not.

And Steve’s not the type to ghost. Sam’s only just met him, but he knows him well enough to know that much. Steve might play his cards close to his chest, but he’s not a liar. He’s the annoyingly sincere type, if anything. 

The type that’ll get Sam in trouble far too easily.

So when Steve shows up five minutes with a renowned assassin in tow and a target on his back, well. It’s not like Sam was ever going to make another choice.

 

\- - - - - - -

“Sam,” Steve murmurs into the crook of his neck. 

Sam’s eyes open and he frowns in annoyance. Natasha will only be in the shower for a few more minutes. They need to get in as much makeout time as they can before she gets back to sneaking glances at them with those annoyingly knowing smiles of hers.

“What?” he asks, once it becomes apparent that Steve isn’t in a rush to talk.

Steve clears his throat. “Sam,” he tries again. “People wanna kill me. And that’s nothing new,” he adds with a smirk, “but it’s…” He sighs and rests their foreheads together. “I’m just gonna say it. I like you. A lot. And like I said before, I want more than just one night with you. I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Sam tries not to laugh. It’s such a juvenile phrase, and yet he can’t think of a better one. “You want to start a relationship? Now?”

“No time like the present,” Steve says with a grin. “Think of it this way, I might get taken out before the day’s over, and then you’ll be off the hook.” He slides one hand down Sam’s hip to cup his ass. “But until that happens, I swear I’ll treat you right.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic,” he says. “With a boyfriend like me, you’re not getting taken out any time soon.”

 

\- - - - - - -

So, Barnes is back now. Steve’s old… friend. Rumoured by some fringe historians to be  _ more _ than that. Not that Sam’s going to ask for clarification. He can’t bear to make Steve’s face look any more haggard than it already does.

Plus he doesn’t actually want to know.

They’ve finished getting debriefed by yet another dude back from the dead. Steve’s knuckles pale as he grips the railing of the dam at Fury’s safe house.

“I’ve gotta try.” His voice is tissue paper, dry and fragile. “Bucky, he’s… I have to.”

“I know.” Sam walks over to rest a hand over Steve’s. “I’ve got your back.”

Steve chuckles without humor as he stares down at their hands. “Not the best way to start a relationship, huh? Dragging you into all this shit.”

“Man, I’ve been waiting for some excitement.” Sam grins and nudges Steve with his shoulder. “Nothing like some light government overthrow to get me going.”

Some of the tension leaves Steve’s shoulders. He turns to face Sam, reaching out to rest his hands lightly on Sam’s hips. “I’ve got your back, too,” he says. “You know that, right? I know I’m asking for more than my fair share right now, but--”

“Shush.” Sam says. “You didn’t ask for any of this. This is bigger than either one of us.”

Sam immediately regrets his choice of words as Steve snickers and pulls him closer.

“Oh really?” Steve moves to press a kiss to the side of Sam’s neck. “You wanna tell me just how  _ big _ this is? Comparatively, of course.”

“Ugh, quit it,” Sam groans even as he laughs and pulls Steve into a kiss. He makes a mental note to chastise Steve for being nasty. 

Later. When Sam’s hand isn’t on Steve’s ass.

 

\- - - - - - -

They’ve barely finished going over the plan for infiltrating the Triskelion when fucking Wolverine swaggers into the safe house like he’s been there all along.

Nat, Sam, and Steve are in the sparse kitchen making sandwiches when he shows up. Nat stiffens beside Sam; he can see her grip tighten on the peanut butter laden knife in her hand. Sam shifts his stance slightly so that he can cover Nat if necessary.

“Logan.” Steve looks unsurprised as he continues with his sandwich construction. 

“Hey, Cap. Long time, no see.” He eyes Steve up and down, but appears unimpressed. Steve doesn’t seem to mind as he strides over to give him a firm handshake. Sam watches closely as their eyes seem to have a silent conversation for a few moments. Eventually, Wolverine gives a small nod, and Steve steps back with a pleased smile.

“Thanks for coming,” he says.

Wolverine rolls his eyes. “You knew I would.”

Steve grins and punches his shoulder lightly. Sam and Nat share an incredulous look. What the hell is going on here? Sam’s heard about mutants, especially the infamously bad ass ones like Wolverine, but having one show up to talk shit with his boyfriend is… pretty fucking weird.

“This is pretty fucking weird,” Nat whispers in Sam’s ear. Sam relaxes slightly. It feels good to be validated, especially by Nat. They haven’t known each other long, but they’re nearly always on the same page.

“Sam, Nat. This is Logan.” Steve claps Wolverine-- or  _ Logan, _ since they’re all apparently on a first name basis now-- on his shoulder as he makes the introductions. “Figured having an extra Howlie on hand wouldn’t hurt, considering the circumstances.”

Sam and Nat share another Look. Logan was in the Howling Commandos? The hell was going on back in the forties that made everyone so damn impossible to kill?

“He’ll be alright.” Logan’s tone isn’t any friendlier, but his face softens as he looks up at Steve. “I know better than anyone what he means to you. We’ll get him back.”

Oh. So that’s how it is. Sam’s glad he hadn’t asked about Steve’s relationship with Barnes. His stomach is already starting to twist unpleasantly at the thought of facing down Steve’s ex-turned-brainwashed assassin.

Nat clear her throat quietly as she goes back to spreading her peanut butter. Sam scowls down at his still-empty plate. If Nat dares to shoot him even one look of pity, he’s stealing her sandwich, and he doesn’t even  _ like _ peanut butter and jelly.

Steve smiles sadly as he gives Logan’s shoulder a squeeze. “Hill can debrief you, she’s in the--”

“We’ve met,” Logan interrupts. “Fury and I go way back. I know his crew. I better go check on him, welcome him back from the dead.” He grins. ”S’always hardest the first time.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Steve says dryly. “Only did it the one time, myself.”

After Logan departs, Steve heads back to the counter where his plate is laden with four sandwiches. He picks up the plate and smiles at Sam. “You ready to eat?”

Sam is confused for a moment, before he realizes that Steve’s plate is full of turkey and cheese sandwiches. An open jar of bread and butter pickles is set next to him.

Steve is not overly fond of turkey  _ or _ sweet pickles. He must’ve made the sandwiches based on Sam’s preferences, not his own.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Sam nods and follows Steve to the table where he’s set down the plate of sandwiches. Nat stuffs half of her pbj into her mouth and slips away silently. Steve fusses around the kitchen, and returns to the table with three kinds of chips, a can of Sprite Zero, and a decadent looking brownie. He arranges all of it in front of Sam before he sits down and grabs one of the sandwiches. 

“Fury didn’t have any spicy mustard,” he says between bites. “I had to use dijon.”

Sam heaves a dramatic sigh. “Man, I don’t remember off-the-grid living being this rough.”

“You got a lot to compare it to?” Steve asks with one eyebrow raised.

Sam shrugs. “Maybe a couple stories.”

“Tell me later?” 

Sam feels a light pressure against his ankle as Steve rests their feet together. Steve’s looking at him through those long lashes like he’d be entranced by anything Sam had to say.

Maybe it’ll be alright. Steve and Barnes might be exes, but maybe it’s a lovers-to-friends sort of thing. With a dash of attempted murder.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a smile. “Later.”

 

\- - - - - - -

“He’s gonna die.” Sam stares up at the crumbling helicarrier. He can just barely see two figures half hanging out, locked together.

“He ain’t dying today,” Logan says. He lights a cigarette, apparently unconcerned for the health of Sam’s lungs due to secondhand smoke. Sam doesn’t give a shit about them either, to be honest, not when--

“Fuck!” Sam’s stomach drops to his knees as one of the figures plummets out of the helicarrier. The second figure falls a few moments later.

“Nat,” Sam can barely breathe enough to get the words out through the comms. “Nat, can you hear me, he  _ fell, _ he just fell, we--”

“Easy,” Logan mutters under his breath. He flicks his cigarette to the ground and gives Sam a slow nod. 

Sam takes a deep breath and starts over. “Cap’s down,” he says in a steady voice, “and it looks like Barnes went down with him. Into the water. Nat, you take the east shore of the river. We’ll take the west. Hill, your team’s got eyes on the water itself.”

Sam signs off and closes his eyes. He can do this. He can scan the shores for his boyfriend’s broken body. Not like it’s the first time. Memories of Riley bubble up, but Sam pushes them to the back of his mind. He’s got to stay focused.

“He’ll be fine.” Logan sounds almost comforting as they head towards the water. Sam shoots him a scowl, and Logan chuckles.

“Might not be as pretty as he usually is,” Logan teases, “but he’ll be fine.”

“Or he might be dead,” Sam says flatly. He’s in no mood to mince words or get his hopes up.

“Nah.” Logan shakes his head. “Barnes wouldn’t kill him. I don’t give a shit what Hydra did to his brains. Some bonds are unbreakable.”

“Great,” Sam mutters. They jog in silence until the reach the water’s edge. 

“Alright,” Sam says. “Let’s split up. I’ll go north, you go south.”

Logan shrugs and lights another cigarette. “I’m not big on taking orders these days.” He blows out a puff of smoke and grimaces. “Disgusting. Shoulda picked up a cigar on my way over.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Do what you want then,” he says wearily. “I don’t give a shit.”

Logan grins. “I said I’m not big on taking them. Didn’t say I wouldn’t.” He looks Sam up and down. “I can see why Cap likes you. You’re just like him. Worse, maybe.”

A touch of fondness softens the words into a compliment. Sam raises his eyebrows in surprise as Logan gives a salute and dutifully heads south.

 

\- - - - - - -

The beeping of Steve’s heart monitor harmonizes nicely with the Marvin Gaye that streams softly from Sam’s phone. Sam’s slumped in a chair next to the bed. One hand props up his chin; the other grips Steve’s as tightly as he dares.

Logan is slouched in the doorway. He’s been quiet, which Sam appreciates. But Steve’s stable now. They have things to take care of. 

Sam looks over at Logan. “He’s gonna go looking for Barnes,” he says quietly.

“I know,” Logan replies, “but he’s not gonna find him.”

Sam smiles sadly. “Yeah,” he says, “I know.”

 

\- - - - - - -

“On your left.”

Sam’s eyes flutter open as he rouses himself from the half-sleep state he’s been in for the last twelve hours. Steve grins at him from his hospital bed. He’s beat to hell, but the way he looks at Sam is more than enough to light up his face into something pretty.

The smile falls from his face. “Bucky, did he…” Steve grips Sam’s hand tighter as he struggles to sit up.

“Easy, man.” Sam gently rests his free hand to Steve’s chest. “Bucky’s, uh, we don’t know where--”

“Did he hurt you?” Steve’s eyes search Sam’s face. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Sam says. “Or I will be, once you settle down.”

Steve sighs and leans back against his pillows. He brings their joined hands up to rest against his chest. “Good.” 

Sam hesitates, unsure of what to say about Barnes whereabouts. Or lack of knowledge thereof. That can wait, he decides eventually. Steve’s not pushing for the info right now, and he’s sure there’ll be plenty of time to go over the details later.

“Looks like I survived,” Steve muses. He grins at Sam. “Guess you’re not off the hook, after all.”

“Off the hook?” Sam asks.

“The boyfriend thing,” Steve says. His grin fades a bit. “Unless… this was a lot, but...”

“Shut up,” Sam said kindly.

“Make me,” Steve shoots back.

So Sam does, with a slow, careful kiss.

 

\- - - - - - -

Fury’s fake funeral is weird. Sam stands in the back with Nat and Steve. Nat makes a show of dabbing her eyes and Sam has to bite his tongue to keep from snickering. Steve rolls his eyes at them, but he’s smothering a smile, too.

Nat leaves once she hands over Barnes’ file. Sam watches Steve carefully as he opens it and traces a finger over Barnes’ photo. He steels himself for what he knows is about to come. Steve will want to go after Barnes. He’ll tell Sam he doesn’t have to help. Sam will insist on helping anyway. Partly because it’s the right thing to do, and partly because it’s Steve.

Sam tries not to think about what will happen when they find him.

To be honest, he’s not entirely sure what will happen. Steve’s been as attentive towards Sam as he ever was. He hasn’t shown any signs of wanting to find Barnes for any sort of rekindling romance purposes.

But Sam’s not naive. When an ex comes back into your life, feelings aren’t guaranteed. Especially under situations like these. It’s not like Steve and Barnes parted by choice, the first time around.

Maybe they can work something out. Sam’s got cousins in Seattle. He knows all about polyamory.

Sam cringes at the thought. He’s not sure if he’d be into that. Especially not with two people who share so much history. Plus the whole brainwashed attempted murder thing.

And who’s to say that Steve would even want that?

He knows he should just  _ ask _ Steve what he’s thinking. It goes against Sam’s nature to bite back his questions when it comes to this sort of shit. He’s not sure why this situation is different.

Steve closes the folder and smiles sweetly at Sam. Sam’s heart leaps to his throat.

_ Oh.  _ That’s why.

 

\- - - - - - -

“He’s not here.”

Sam shoots Logan an unimpressed look. “Nice to see you, too.”

Logan grins from his seat on the back porch of his cabin. He’s got a cigar clenched between his teeth. Sam wrinkles his nose at the smell.

“Hasn’t  _ been _ around here, either,” Logan says. “‘Course, that’s what I’d say even if he  _ had _ been.”

Sam presses his lips together. He should have made Steve haul his ass up here to bumblefuck, Canada on his own. Let the super powered geriatrics play riddles with each other.

Logan must sense his frustration, because he quickly snuffs out his cigar and stands up to shake Sam’s hand. “Good to see you, Wilson. And I mean it. Barnes isn’t here.”

“I know that,” Sam says. He’s chased Barnes down enough times to know that Barnes would have fled the second he saw Sam coming. And he would definitely have seen Sam coming.

He’s not sure why Steve was so insistent that they talk to Logan. He supposes it’s the Howlie thing. Sam knows what that sort of camaraderie is like. Steve had wanted to join Sam, but he’d been called away on a mission at last minute.

Sam’s somewhat relieved. Steve had been very excited to stop through Niagara Falls, which had apparently been billed as one of the nation's top romantic getaways when he was a kid. Sam is glad he won’t have to see Steve’s disappointed face when they roll up to a family-filled tourist trap.

They have plenty of romance at home, anyway. Steve has effectively moved in with Sam, and is always doing dumb shit that makes Sam’s heart melt. He doodles cheesy cartoons on Post-Its and leaves them around the house. He’s started an extensive collection of massage oils that he uses on Sam after every mission. He brings huge trays of gourmet cupcakes to Sam’s VA sessions, and kisses him senseless in his office afterwards. 

Sam has never been happier, and it is stressing him the hell out. It’s only a matter of time until Barnes is found and everything changes.

“You wanna stay for dinner?” Logan asks. “I could cook something.”

Sam eyes the rings of dirt under Logan’s fingernails. “Nah, I’m good.”

Logan shrugs. He looks out into the woods. “Look. If he comes, I can’t tell you shit. Cap knows that. But I can tell  _ him.” _

“You think it’ll make a difference?” Sam asks.

A smirk curls across Logan’s face. “Maybe. Barnes and I, we…  _ understand _ each other.” 

Sam nearly chokes on his inhale. Logan’s expression is… it looks like…

Like he  _ knows _ Barnes, in the intimate sort of way.

Panic rises in Sam’s chest as he bites back the  _ ‘oh hell no’ _ that springs to his lips. Barnes is enough of a problem on his own, but the addition of Logan bumps things up to an intolerable level. No way in  _ hell _ is Sam going to deal with the romantical dramatics of  _ three _ crusty old super soldiers.

He’s put things off long enough. It’s time to talk to Steve.

 

\- - - - - - -

“We need to talk.”

Sam regrets his choice of words immediately. Steve’s face falls into lines of distress, and he lowers the bouquet of gerbera daisies that he’d held out as Sam entered the house.

“No, baby, not like that!” Sam hurries over to kiss Steve soundly, hands cupped around his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes. He wraps one arm around Sam and pulls him close; the other holds the daisies away from them so they don’t get smushed. “Good. Because I already put in the Thai order, and I really don’t want you to kick me out before I get my satay.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’m sharing the satay,” Sam snickers as he leans in for a kiss.

“I missed you,” Steve murmurs against Sam’s lips after several kisses. 

“I missed you, too.” Sam wants to forget the whole thing and keep on kissing Steve, but he knows that’s not an option. He steps back and takes the flowers. “These are pretty, thank you. Let me put them in water, then we’ll talk.”

Once the gerbera daisies are safe and watered in an antique milk bottle that they’d picked up at some junk store, Sam leads Steve to the couch and sits him down.

“The thing is,” he says slowly, “I… I think Logan is trying to make a move on your man.”

Steve’s eyes widen comically before he bursts into laughter. “Holy shit!” he chokes out between guffaws. “Logan hit on you?”

Sam’s jaw drops. “Huh?”

Steve struggles to contain his laughter. “I’m sorry,” he wheezes. “I’m not… you’re gorgeous, you know that, of  _ course _ he’d be interested, but--”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Sam snaps. “He didn’t-- it’s  _ Bucky, _ you dumbass, I think he’s into Bucky!”

Now Steve’s the one who looks confused. “Well, yeah? Didn’t you know that?”

Sam narrows his eyes. “How the  _ hell _ would I know that?”

“They teach about the Howlies in history class,” Steve protests. “Logan and Bucky’ve been… whatever they are, together, since the war.”

“Yeah, well.” Sam huffs and folds his arms across his chest. “They don’t teach  _ that _ part in history class. They don’t even mention  _ Logan, _ let alone who he was fucking.”

“Huh.” Steve frowns. “I guess they wouldn’t. Logan was always sorta off the record. What with being a mutant and all.”

He smiles at Sam and scoots closer. “Why would that bother you, anyway? I know Logan’s rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy, he’d never--”

“Enough!” Sam snaps. He’s fed up with Steve’s sheer  _ audacity _ to act like everything’s normal. “Don’t you pull this shit on me, Rogers! You  _ love _ Barnes. And I don’t mean platonically, or brotherly, or… you let him beat you near to death! That’s not what  _ friends _ do. Don’t act like I’m imagining shit here, okay? Just  _ stop.” _

Steve looks stunned. Sam’s not sure he’s ever seen him so still before. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then looks Sam straight in the eye.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I would never accuse you of imagining shit.” He shrugs, and gestures vaguely with one hand. “You’re right. Bucky and I, we’re not… we’re  _ us. _ We’ve always been us. And maybe it’s not strictly  _ platonic, _ by other people’s standards, but it’s  _ not _ romantic. At all. It never has been.” 

He slides closer and cups Sam’s face. “Baby, you’ve  _ gotta _ know that. You and me,  _ we’re _ romantic. There’s no one else like you. Not for me.” He pauses, licks his lips before he continues. “I love you, Sam. So much. And I know it’s too soon, but I don’t give a shit. Waiting’s never worked out for me. And you don’t have to feel the same way. I’ll keep on loving you regardless. However you need me to.”

Sam lets out a shaky laugh. “You and your damn speeches.” He lets Steve pull him in for a kiss.

Steve smirks when they pull apart. “If you don’t like me flapping my mouth, maybe you oughta give me something else to do with it.”

Sam wastes no time in tackling Steve back against the couch. He’s never been one to shirk a challenge.

And if the delivery guy winds up leaving their order on the front porch, well. It’s not like it’s the first time, and they always tip well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [Dreamwidth](https://nachodiablo.dreamwidth.org/), [Tumblr](https://samstevebuckyhq.tumblr.com/), or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nachodiablo1).


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